


Home is Where the Heart is

by Magekat



Category: Portal (Video Game)
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:54:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27620008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magekat/pseuds/Magekat
Summary: Wheatley is finally met face-to-face with the person he had hurt. She now has full responsibility over his fate, she could kill him, or leave him, but something in her tells her otherwise, and now she has to deal with conflicted feelings and a very hysterical robot that tried to kill her. Oh, how the tables turn.
Comments: 7
Kudos: 23





	1. Chapter 1: It was Her.

_I have no one._

_Nobody really knows I even exist._

_Everyone who does hates me,_

_Everything that's happening to me I deserve._

_I don't know what's wrong with me._

  
  


Whatever was left of that little thing called "hope" had diminished long, long ago. In its place was despair and misery. There wasn't anything else. 

Unless you counted the sun, the Earth, the moon, it wasn't like they were much assistance. More a bother than anything.

"Star. Another star. Stars everywhere."

Oh, he hated looking at it. Bloody stars. What's so great about them, eh? They're just a bunch of white specks. Dreadful. 

What was worse was that each one seemed to have a duplicate right next to it. He couldn't even focus on a star, as he wouldn't be able to tell which was real. Not like it mattered anyway. Who would go out of their way to see this place? Nobody, that's who. Nobody wants to be here. It's deafening and joyless.

Except for that one corrupt core who only liked space.

He glanced over to Spacey, floating adjacent to him, his optic swirling ecstatically inside his casing, the faceplate muted by the lack of.. much of anything, and was visibly scratched from his constant excitement. He could only wish he had Spacey's same enthusiasm for the place.

It was pointless to try to cancel out the negativity by forcing out the rest of your sanity to the last drop just to think positively once more. Despite a lack of mouth, Wheatley was sure any more of that would make him barf.

"Earth. Wanna go to Earth. Don't like space. Too big."

He didn't bother attempting to agree with Spacey. It felt like he had signed a silent pledge against his will. It didn't feel like he could manage even a word. Not like anyone would listen, nobody could ever acknowledge the blue core.

He was gonna die out here. No doubt. There wasn't any way out. Nobody would go out of their way to help someone as horrible as him. Someone who hurt people as much as him. Someone who made as many mistakes as him.

_-shhzzt-_

"Dad, are we Earth? Yes son. Spell it. E-A-R-thh."

He was alone. Forever. The rest of his battery life. Oh, he wished it was dead already. Time seemed to drag on for so long. It didn't seem to pass. It had been an eternity, possibly longer. Didn't matter, nothing was going to change anyway. 

He deserved it, didn't he? For becoming a victim to the chassis? 

Why did he become so.. _addicted? Addicted_ to that _feeling_?

_-sshzt-_

He remembered quotes now and again, sometimes little parts of them, but one he knew for sure was to shoot for the stars.. but this.. this was a bit too literal for him. It used to be one of his favorite inspirational quotes, now it just seemed dreary.

Most thoughts and memories he had left behind were left to gravitate towards his black hole of lost emotion where his heart used to sit. Sure, he never had one, but swore he'd lost it.

Stars weren't out to do anything. They just.. stood there. All the time. Silently judging him, like everyone he ever knew. Wheatley wondered when the day would come where he couldn't endure it anymore. Where his entire world would shatter upon itself like china falling onto a tile floor. He didn't want to think about that stuff, how much more fragile he was becoming within the minute. He'd often find himself thinking about it either way, unfortunately. There wasn't anything else _to_ do. Besides turn himself off again.

_-shhzzt-_

Upon waking up, he glanced to Spacey again.

"What's on the moon? Arm. Arm."

He didn't deserve to be forgiven, really. Wheatley messed up too many times for anyone to even bother trying to find a single good program in him.

"Arm. Arm."

Arm? Spacey was probably malfunctioning. He was corrupt, after all.

He would be stuck out here until he's dead, and god only knows how long that'll be. He would never be able to apologize to anyone. His guilt would fester into depression, his regrets would mold into rage. Everyone he ever met probably hated him. There probably wasn't a single soul who even thought about him, all he could imagine was, "Hey, remember that huge screw-up Wheatley? Because I sure don't."

He was some arbitrary object for people to walk over. Not like anyone would notice him... he didn't know many people in general.

"ARM! ARM!"

Interrupting his seldom was a sudden clasp around his sides. 

"Gah! What the--"

It was.. an arm, pulling him. But from where? He twisted his faceplate to turn around and saw.. a portal on the moon, an outstretched robotic arm protruding from it. Who was.. was it.. _Her_?

He was being dragged slowly back into the portal. He was.. was he getting out? No, he must be hallucinating. Oh god. He tried to shake it off and wiggled around his handles and swiveled his optic and plate frantically. 

He tried to take a deep breath, but he was already hyperventilating beyond control.

"This isn't real. This isn't real." He said between and under breaths. He closed his optic and tucked in his handles over his face best he could, pointing his face downwards.

He was getting closer, and closer to the moon and.. 

"What are you doing, metal ball? I'm trying to help you."

It.. it was her. _She_ was dragging him back to the facility.

If he had a heart, which he had lost, it would've fallen down seven stories and then into the depths of the ocean 4 times over. He was terrified beyond what he had ever felt before. Oh god. Now he was dead for sure. She would make him suffer. His optic shot open and a shiver went through him.

The sound of the portal gun went off in the room, which for a short period, was being vacuumed out of.

He flinched- his optic shut closed the sound. He was convulsing violently in terror.

She was lying. She was lying. That's all She does. That's all that anyone does. Lie to him.

The deafening silence of space was finally addressed. For a moment he had a small ounce of relief. The low humming of an engine, the coolness of the room, a familiar scent of..home. But upon opening his optic to a squint..

_Oh god, oh god, OH GOD!_

Her yellow eye was sharp and glared into him, choking his voice with a garrote. His optic had minialized into a single dot, anxiously shaking straight into Her's. He couldn't barely say anything. His voice was lost.

"Well, hello." She said.

"How have you been?"

Wheatley sucked in all of his remaining courage, and very quietly replied.

"F-f-fine.."

"Remember when you made me a potato?"

His voice was a mere croak, as it was strangled by the arm of utter regret and guilt.

"I-I'm s-sorry.."

"Did that feel good? Destroying my facility? Do you feel accomplished?"

All he could let out was a small sob. He closed his optic again and faced the ground. She was holding him above the ground, elevating him on an equal level with her.

She moved her chassis away from his face, almost shocked by the amount of emotion that her simple glare could induce.

"It didn't, did it."

She lowered Wheatley as he gently wept, overwhelmed with so much emotion. Guilt, fear, sadness, a tsunami of negativity.

"I don't feel like space was a bad enough punishment though."

He hesitated. 

She.. she wanted to hurt him _more_? Was abandonment in a vast and endless universe not a bad punishment? To let his emotions curl up defensively and expose the demons to his head? His mind began racing with so many horrible ideas, he just couldn't list them down. They kept appearing and reappearing and disappearing. He opened his optic to look back at her and let out the loudest plea he could manage at this moment.

"No, please."

He struggled to say much more between his sharp breaths and unsteady voice.

"Oh yes. I have the perfect idea for you. It even involves science."

Another arm appeared, a skinny, sharp one.

"Just stay still for a moment."

"No.. nononono...."

A wave of static buzzed against his hull before he stood completely still for a second, twitched, and the world around him ceased to exist. 


	2. Chapter 2: Where it Began (Unfortunately)

_Facing the past is unpleasant._

_Facing someone who hurt you in the past?_

_Painful, at best._

_Being the person who hurt them?_

_Even more._

Today was a cold fall afternoon. The air was rather dry today, contrary to the usual humidity that hung in the air. Chell stood in a shallow meadow, the blades of grass sharpened and yellowed by the changing of summer to fall. It crunched below her boots, thick brown ones at that. The sky was scattered with small clumps of clouds and it was slowly descending into a vibrant orange, the sun was simply encouraging it. She didn't look towards it, as the star burned blue spots onto her eyes, undesirable although not permanent. She was watching the night cast a blue blanket over the sky, blending seamlessly into the orange horizon. She was wearing an olive sweater and had tucked her hands into the pockets of it. The baggy sweater draped beyond her hip, obscuring her gray leggings and nearly reaching the center of her thighs. Her hair was let down, the strands drifting slightly in the soft wind, and sharing the breeze was a brown-leaved tree, rocking its branches in rhythm of the earth below it. The leaves waltzed in the wind as they fell alongside feathers and dust. 

She walked over to the edge of the thick tree and leaned against the trunk. 

Nearby, she heard small whimpers and groans, children being coerced by their parents to head home. 

_"If it makes you feel any better, they abandoned you at birth, so I very seriously doubt they'd even want to see you."_

She could never get that voice out of her head. She never listened to it, it never hurt her, it was so long ago. Why was she still thinking about _Her_ ? She could never shake off the feeling that _She_ still was watching her. She couldn't possibly see her now. Not anymore.

Chell took out her phone to check the time, as it was becoming darker and darker. The blanket of blue was fading into black. The street lights were illuminating and the lights inside houses surrounding the meadow were becoming more apparent.

A hum of an engine began and slowly faded into the distance. She rose from the tree and walked towards her car, parked in the lot. 

While walking across the park, she stepped into wood chips. She approached the playground area and looked away, as she was not interested. Each step was unexpectedly soft and the ground seemed to almost bounce back.

There were a couple of slides and a bridge that connected structures to another. Beside that, there was a swing set. The whole playground was colorful, vibrant blues and reds and yellows- awfully childish but.. enticing. 

Chell stopped to look at the playground and eyed the swings longfully. She couldn't remember the last time she played on one. She turned her head to check if anyone was around, and upon realizing there was an absence of anyone watching her, trudged through the chips onto the swing.

She rocked herself back and forth peacefully and looked to the blackened sky.

She thought about what she had done to that little robot. 

The spherical one she sent out there. Out in space. With the blue eye. Who wouldn't stop talking, who tried to kill her. 

She wondered what he was doing up there, only for a millisecond, mind you. She hadn't bothered giving it much thought, it was rather pointless to her. She.. didn't like to think about her past all that much. There were so many ways to preoccupy herself that getting involved in her own fears seemed unnecessary or always reopened a wound she had been healing. 

She kicked her legs rhythmically to begin the swings ascent into the sky.

Chell had driven home and was brushing out her dark brown hair, it was restless and thick. She brought the brush back up again only to get caught in a giant knot that had formed behind her neck. She pulled the length over her shoulder and, using both hands, tugged on the brush relentlessly. It wasn't budging. She gave herself a breather and tugged again, resulting in a small--pop!

The bristles of the brush separated from the plastic shell of the handle, lodging the part separately in her monster of hair. She growled angrily at the cheap brush and tossed it in a bin. 

Her bathroom was tidy, except for a small wad of garments next to the edge of her tub. The mirror was thin and had a crack that reached the top right corner to the middle of the glass. She sighed and opened a drawer underneath her vanity, searching for something else. No luck was to be found, as each and every one of them was empty, except for one with a tiny comb. She brought it out and, upon weaving it through her hair, snapped it in half. She threw it away as well and groaned in frustration. Chell just ran her hands through her hair to comb it out, it was all she had. 

The bathroom opened up to the kitchen, a tiny little kitchen at that. Her sink had one small plate in it, still damp from rinsing. She walked over to her bedroom, the blanket of the bed wadded in the corner of the mattress. First she turned off the light and kneeled underneath the bed to drag out a box full of books and pens. She took out a clear case of gel pens and a book. Laying them on her bed, she turned on a lamp on a table next to her, and flipped to a page with a beautiful black-and-white lion. She didn't even bother to make her bed, she grabbed the edges of the blanket and wrapped them over herself. She retrieved a pen and began to color the lion, making its eyes lime green. 

Outside, she could hear cars and trucks going down the busy street she lived nearby, which usually made her pensive. She did her best to ignore it, though.

The lion was full with color now, bright greens and yellows, reds, and tiny peppering of orange. Something about that color just made her uncomfortable. 

She could feel her body going limp and unknowingly dropped her head on the book, wrapping her free arm over her face. It only felt like a moment, but she had fallen fast asleep. 

She woke up again when she heard her alarm going off, the repetitive screeching of the beeps. At least it wasn't playing the same tune over and over again, she thought. Her pen was still grasped in her hand, face still on the paper. She reached out her free hand and pressed the large button atop the small digital clock and let her arm fall to the edge of the bed. She opened her eyes. The clock read 7:02 and the room was a wonderful shade as the sun began to rise and gleam through her blue curtains. She could hear birds chirping outside and drew herself up from the caress of the mattress, swung her legs beside the window opposite to where she was facing, and was able to reach the edge of the curtains. She opened them and the walls turned white and the carpet molded into a cobalt. Below the window, there was a pile of blinds that had previously fallen off due to her ripping it off in frustration, as she does most things, and she didn't know what to do with it.

She had to work very soon. It was a Monday, a regular, boring Monday. She got dressed, blue baggy jeans that bundled over her boots and a black shirt, covered once again by her large green sweater. A quick snack of yogurt, and before she knew it, she was back out the door and driving to work, a granola bar between her teeth alongside it. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Traffic was still bad, her coffee was horrendous, even though she filled it with nothing but cream and sugar. She wasn't a fan of the taste coffee one bit, but it gave her the energy she needed to get by.

As she walked towards the office she worked in, she paused in the morning air, only a few feet away from the door.

The aura that usually came from the doors was.. different. It felt strange. She had never bothered to think about it, but today, she had a hunch something was going on and everyone was completely oblivious towards it. She paused at the door and readjusted the strap on her bag over her shoulder, slowly opening the door and glancing back and forth before going inside the building. Hunches, hunches, hunches. Something was _wrong_ today. She could feel it. She didn't know _how_ she felt it. Maybe it was the general uneasiness that was sliding up her throat like an elevator, except for the fact that rather than a beep when it reached the top, it was a small burst of electricity, rushing through her spine.

"Good morning." Said the receptionist inside.

In the lobby, there were a few chairs littered all over, and it was gigantic. A humongous carpet spread across the floor, many of the seats placed above it. There were small fall decorations littered about as well, a small scarecrow besides the receptionist's desk, a fall wreath above the elevator, small tidbits of seasonal decorations. The room had a crisp smell to it, something hard to describe. Like a doctor's office, but a clear homely feeling to it that one could either dread or never notice. 

The carpet was woven into the shape of a sun, a yellow middle, brown points, and a sky with a greenish tint surrounding it, all unremarkably grayed by age.

The floor was a fake wood pattern, it was smooth and clicked with every step she took in her boots. The steps echoed off the tinted glass that surrounded each side of the building except towards the elevator and receptionist's desk. 

Heading towards the elevator, she pressed the button to go upwards. 

"They say they've got a package for you up there." The receptionist said excitedly.

"Oh." Chell said back.

"I don't know who it's from, said something like, 'Oh, you know'. Do you have a secret admirer?" She joked, letting out a tiny, sensible chuckle.

Chell was taken aback. Could _She_ have.. No, it was impossible.

"Is there something wrong, dear?"

Chell had been staring at the floor, caught up in a tense feeling that refused to settle.

"No." She shook her head.

The elevator opened and she went inside, holding her breath. She had pressed the button to her floor, but the closer she came to her number, the more the gut feeling rose and rose until she was nauseous.

As it slid open, she took a deep breath and swept her bag onto her other shoulder. 

That.. that package didn't have any meaning to it. It couldn't. She couldn't wrap her head around the idea of a package from _Her_. 

There wasn't anything out of the ordinary in the office. Her co-workers were present and sitting at their desks tapping away on the keyboards. There was usually very little chatter that happened within the workplace, as everyone was too busy with other things to fit in any. Though occasionally, the woman across from her tried to attempt conversation, and today was one of those days.

She had thousands and thousands of photos of her two children that coated the desk space that she occupied. One was a baby and the other a toddler. Her pinboard was absolutely loaded with pictures of them, alongside her tiny dog. Compared to her, Chell's desk was barren and had a single small succulent.

She swerved around in her chair and tried to chat Chell up. Chell hated her, of course, and refused to say a thing

"Hey. How was your morning?"

Chell wrapped around her desk and looked down at the enormous box sitting atop it.

"Kids drove me crazy. When I woke up this morning, you won't believe this, my kids got into the pantry and got cereal all over the place! It was everywhere, I'm not kidding, in my bag, in the car, it's even in-"

Chell wasn't listening to her blabber on about her problems, she was already worried as it was. She was nervous about the contents of the box.

Still standing, she read the label on it. The sender was labeled, "Oh, you know." And a very fake return name, said it came from a potato company of some sort. The name placed for the recipient was her own name, but her last name was placed as '[REDACTED]'.

_She was right._

She slumped into her seat and held her breath. Her co-worker, facing Chell's back, was slightly concerned.

"What's in that box?"

Chell crossed her arms pensively, unresponsive to her attempt to talk to her. The co-worker turned back around and continued to tap away on her keyboard solemnly, finally noticing how uncomfortable she was making the situation.

Chell looked at the box. What could be inside there? _She_ would've sent her something to hurt her, She didn't care about her well being. What could possibly be in that box? She placed her bag on the counter and shuffled through it, the insides clinking and clacking, sharp jingles of metal tapping each other like bells. After a moment of shuffling, she held out a small metal object- a pocket knife, and opened the blade, preparing to open said box. She prepared to shove the knife in between the taped flaps only to… hesitate.

The knife moved away from the box and it was placed beside it. She inspected the condition of the box, hoping to get some clue of what was inside of it. She lifted it up, and it wasn't all that heavy. The cardboard didn't have any marks or damage, it was almost pristine.

Rotating it, she noticed a large white piece of paper on one side. Carefully, she picked at an edge, only to show the corner of.. what she could only describe as an aperture.

It was like she had just leaped off a building. She knew who it was from. She didn't have a clue what it could be, but just a glance at the thing was unnerving.

She wasn't curious to know what it was. It couldn't be info about herself that she left behind. Or a toy from when she was a child. It could be a bomb, some kind of test to see how gullible she is. Or a tracking device or some sort. She didn't want to open it. 

Picking up the knife, she folded it back up and placed it beside her on her desk. She pushed the box to the corner and crossed her hands atop each other, staring and staring and staring at it. What did it mean? Why was it sent? Her past was coming back to haunt her again.

_"If I'd known you'd let yourself get captured this easily, I would have just dangled a turkey leg on a rope from the ceiling."_

Chell wouldn't fall for this again.

She felt some kind of unconsolable rage beginning to run down into her body. Anger she had been holding and choking to get over. She got up again and shoved her chair into the desk ferociously, her face curving to make furrowed eyebrows and inhaling sharp breaths, and upon impact with the table, there was a.. _whimper..?_

She stood for still second, dumbfounded at the sound. Then, a stream of an unreasonably scorching pain ran through every part of her body, it was like it was burning her from the inside the longer she stood in one place. Something was in there. Something she _knew._

She grabbed the knife again, mounted the box underneath her arm, and stormed out, stomping through the office, trying her best to hide her face from anyone that might be watching. Everyone was always watching, weren't they? They _always_ were.

_It was that feeling again._

_That feeling of being watched._

_That your privacy was being invaded._

_God, was it familiar._

_It made her head ache._

The strides down the hallway seemed to drag on for longer than ever before. The pictures on the wall, the people staring right through her. She could still feel them even though she was looking straight at the carpet. Noticing an open door, she turned and went inside one of the conference rooms, slamming it behind her, and leaned against it, sliding down until she was sitting on the floor.

She looked to the side of her. The box rumbled slightly again as she dropped it on the ground. With the utmost caution, she lifted the box onto her lap. It was.. vibrating. Not the kind that seemed rhythmic and mechanical, one like there was an egg hatching or a cat purring. 

She took the knife and ran it down the top and placed her hands back upon the opening of the box, restricting the flaps from folding back out.

Putting the knife to her side, she carefully lifted a flap upwards. It was a bit dark in the room, so at first she didn't recognize much of a shape, but upon reaching out to touch it, some sort of gear swerved suddenly, making only a tiny sound, but she pulled back as if she had just touched a hot stove. She swiftly shut the flaps closed and tilted her head backwards to recover her sanity, took a breath, and reached out to open it again.

She lifted the flaps of the box together and peered down inside. There was something circular in shape inside of the box, and something being extended from it. She was about to grab what looked like a handle when another she heard another swirl of mechanical gears, revealing a single, shivering blue dot through the darkness.

_You've brought yourself to me._

_Now what?_

_Where do you go? Where do I go?_

_You've changed everything._

_Nothing but your fault._

  
  


Wheatley's world was twisting and twisting and twisting among itself. Pouring and pouring and pouring out. A wet towel, stretched and wrung.

Where was he? Why was he here? Who was--

_Her._

_Oh god. Oh god. Oh god._

Upwards, he saw nothing but the face he had known before.

Wheatley couldn't fit the pieces together coherently. Everything was falling upon itself. There were so many emotions in play, he couldn't think of them all. He couldn't talk. Not a word. He was glued together again.

Chell seemed equally surprised, even though she had suspected it was him. Holding her breath, she reached out her hand to grasp his handle, trying to release it from being tucked against his hull. He flinched as soon as she touched him and yelped out in absolute terror.

She jumped back and raised her hand back up. She lifted the box onto the ground beside her, seeing as she was starting to stress herself out as well.

Wheatley was, in fact, in _much_ worse shape than her, trembling and being flushed with far too many and strong emotions at once. 

Keeping his faceplate down, he had seen the sight of her face, eyes widened in shock. He couldn't understand why her first thought wasn't to step on him or would kick him. 

Everything about this terrified him. It was the equivalent of putting a mouse in an enclosure with a snake. 

He had glanced up to meet her glare, and regretted it deeply. He was trembling, he was shaking so much that he couldn't even see anything. 

Oh, she hated him, didn't she? She would kill him, wouldn't she? Throw him into an incinerator to die, throw him back out into space to suffer. He couldn't imagine the type of revenge she would want to get on him.

Chell paced across the room tentatively, her hand reaching out to hold her forehead as she harshly swung her head as she turned. She was thinking a bit too quickly, perhaps. Why was he here? Why had _She_ returned him? What reasons did he have to be only a few feet away from her, opposed to the thousands of miles he had been before? 

She didn't know what to think of him. On one hand, she definitely _did_ want to kick him. But.. something held her back. Perhaps it was the fact that he was so small and defenseless. Did she feel bad for him? Did she hate him? She just.. couldn't tell.

This was his life now. He couldn't swallow it. Everything felt so wrong. Everything went too fast. He couldn't catch a break, or a breath for that matter. Glancing back up, he looked through the crack of the box flaps and saw The Lady walking back and forth, actively refusing to look at him.

Chell walked back over to the box and stared straight down into it, unable to see much because of the darkness in the room. She didn't know what to do with him. That small, terrified, double-crossing core. She thought that life was behind her. She had been able to start anew, well, thanks to some old friends she hadn't talked to in years. Why bring him back to her? What was the point? As far as she knew, this was probably one huge plan that _She_ had made, fully aware of the consequences that were to come, or more likely, expecting them. 

She looked back over at the window towards the streets and roads, tiny little cars dashing across lanes, microscopic silhouettes of people walking towards whatever job or place they were going, all viewed from far, far away. It looked like you were looking upon a miniature version of the city on a table. Like you could pick up all the little cars and buildings and place them where they couldn't belong, just to spite the maker. The sun had barely risen as well, it being so early and all. It was only slightly cloudy and the lights from those little vehicles and streetlights made it look a pinch ethereal. 

She turned back around, looking back to the box holding that once-innocuous character, still trembling like a cold puppy. She listened intently as he withdrew a sharp, broken breath, followed by a small sob afterwards. 

He couldn't stay here. 

She picked up the box again and shut the flaps, trying to keep them as flat as possible. She walked back out of the room, only to see that nobody had noticed her stomping through the hallway earlier, as they were completely focused on their work. It seemed everything had seemed much louder. He was still shaking, unsurprisingly. But just enough that it was noticeable if you touched it. She felt as her strides were so short that she was waddling tensely, her steps soft as they touched the tightly woven carpet below. The faces on the photos seemed to be looking elsewhere, as if they were purposefully looking away from her. She withdrew a breath and trudged onwards to her desk again, sitting down and pushing the box away from her. 

"Hon? You alright?" Her co-worker said, turning around to Chell, her head dangling as she looked down at her table. She refused to give a verbal answer, tightening her shoulders and pressing her lips together out of her sight. 

A hand placed itself onto her shoulder, and she turned to see her eyes, dark as an abyss, staring into her own like they were looking for something. Her co-worker had crouched down to be at eye level with Chell, which seemed to slightly put her at ease.

"Hey, hey. Take a breath. What's going on?"

What was going on? That was a _fantastic_ question. She wished she knew. All Chell knew at the moment was that there had to be _something_ she could do about it. 

Grabbing the box, Chell looked away from her and walked away back to the elevator, hoping she could come up with a plan alone. Her co-worker tried to stop her, but she knocked her hand off her shoulder in one swift movement. Chell was off to get rid of him in any way she could.


End file.
